Je T'Adore
by AWickedMemory
Summary: Shinji's internal musings on the one who he adores. [ Completed 1 of 1 ]


**Title:** Je T'Adore  
**Author:** Daryn Maxwell  
**Date Started:** 13 January 2004  
**Date Completed:** 13 January 2004  
**Disclaimer:** Shinseiki (Neon Genesis) Evangelion and all of its characters are property of Gainax. As always, comments would be much appreciated! After all, I may write for myself, but reviews are the only way to know if anyone else enjoys my writing as well.  
Cats are borrowed from the lovely film "Vanilla Sky". 

          The one whom I adore isn't perfect.

          His eyes are indecipherable, sanguine pools that scares as much as they soothe me. They stand out brilliantly against the rest of his features, waiting to capture me in their liquid whirlpool and draw me in until I'm a captive of those pinprick pupils.

          His nose is a little too sharp, a little too large. If I leaned in to kiss him-- I would never dare, but if-- I fear that it may cut across my cheek and draw a line of crimson, scarring my face as his presence has my heart. His nose is a pinnacle rising from his face and drawing attention to it, unwanted or otherwise.

          His lips lie. At first glance, they seem soft and welcoming, curved into a friendly smile. But they are cold, I know, and the smile is fixed, just like his words. Every sentence uttered from those imperfect lips is sculpted to be smooth and appealing, but left up to close scrutiny, they're chillingly polite. No matter what he says, there is no true warmth beneath the words.

          His hair sometimes lies to frame his face, but at the slightest breeze it seems as if it would fly from him. It's softer than a dream, but simultaneously as slick and plain as slippery, deceptive reality. When silvery strands stray to rest upon his face, they look unnatural-- like whispers of ghosts against the eerie pallor.

          His arms are long and gangly from adolescence, hanging at his sides as if he's unsure of what to do with them. I would give him a place to put them-- around me, holding me to his chest as a spider embraces her sedated and carefully dressed prey before destroying it. But this will be in another lifetime, whether we are men or cats. I wish for the latter.

          His hands seem fit to wrap around my neck and strangle me effortlessly, so long are those skeletal fingers and so certain those palms. Or perhaps he'd rather use his size-8 shoes to stomp me down until I'm no more than the grains of sand you daily trod upon. Hands and feet, fingers and toes, palms and heels-- they're all your tools, your weapons to better yourself over others. You could use them to kill as easiliy as you use them to pray. Pray to me, beloved, and if not to me, _for_ me.

          His skin is pale, as pale as sickness-- or death. We enter this world screaming and pink, and end it silently ashen-white. Will you leave me now, soon soon?

          His eyes, nose, lips, hair, arms, hands, feet, skin, shallow cheeks, elongated neck, stabbing elbows, awkward knees, lanky shoulders, starved-thin physique-- they're why he'll never be one girls lust for, or boys envy. Adults will disregard him, children will treat him with indifference, peers will gawk at him, rumours will be spread about him. He'll be known, of course, but his essence will dissipate into the shadows and chatter of the halls at school, or work, or markets. Everyone will know of him, but nobody will know him.

          And this is why I adore him. His imperfections make him feel less like a spectral figure formed in the air beside me one sunset and more like a human I could reach out and touch and know exists. He could hold me, and I would be held by someone like myself. He could reassure me of my reality rather than confuse me with his elevated being. He could hold my too-small hand in his too-large one, and I would be relieved that neither of us would feel the need to better complement the other. We're already the same.

          Most importantly, he could die with me, for me, and would not be missed. He won't leave any tears behind, and nor will I; as our spirits transcend our corporal forms, we'll be quickly replaced by others and make a silent, peaceful transition to eternity. There will be no one to hold us back.

          "Arigatou. Kimi ni atte... ureshikatta yo."

          I was happy to meet you, too, Kaworu. Here's to the next life... when we are both cats. 


End file.
